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Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Rodeo Reverie

I’m in the backyard I’d spent my childhood in.I can hear the buzz of mosquitoes in my ear,
and feel the cool breeze that carried the scent of bovine flatulence on my
face.

The lucid part of my brain—the part that remains separate
even when dreaming—notes the lack of cicadas.For better than ten years I’ve lived in North Carolina, where the cicada’s
metallic buzz provides a never-ending counterpoint to every other night sound.

But right now, in my dream, I’m back in Cody, Wyoming.

And I’m listening to the rodeo.

In a few years the rodeo grounds will move to the edge of
town, but right now it’s just a few blocks away from my house.Its lights create a false sunrise over the
tall fence surrounding our yard, and the sounds of excited people and irritated
bulls carry clearly.

I’ve been to enough rodeos that I
can close my eyes and picture what’s happening.

A dip in the crowd noise means the
next bull rider is in the chute—a tiny metal cage just barely wide enough to accommodate
the two-ton bull.The rider’s lowering
himself onto furious animal, wrapping a thick rope around his right hand.Things can go wrong badly and in the blink of
an eye in that cage.

The bull is out, throwing the back
end of his body high into the air, twisting wildly, bucking with the single
focus of throwing the rider onto the hard-packed dirt.

I can judge how the ride is going
by the noise.High volume and lots of
excitement means the bull is bucking and twisting for all he’s worth—it’s a
good ride.

An extended “oooh” means the rider
has come off the bull, whether he hit that magic eight seconds or not.

Silence after that means the rider
came off and the bull stomped him or got him with those blunted horns.It means the rodeo clowns are out there
distracting the bull so the rider has a chance to get out.

It’ll stay silent until the rider
stands up and waves his hat to signal he’s OK (even if he’s got a few broken
bones he didn’t have before), or until the rider waves from the stretcher.

If it stays silent too long…

Time to wake up.

This post is my response to a prompt from Write On Edge – we were supposed
to write something in which a local item or industry plays a role.Where I grew up, rodeos were a part of
life.One of my first (unofficial) jobs,
was climbing all over the stands with a friend of mine, selling programs.I chased sheep in the center of those
grounds, watched barrel racing, and closed my eyes a lot when those brave men
strapped themselves to two tons of pissed-off bull.

Thank you for stopping by, and please, let me know what you think in
the comments!